


Onward Til Morning

by scenic_overkill



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Peter Pan References, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-08 04:58:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5484398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scenic_overkill/pseuds/scenic_overkill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It's true," Amy says, "It's this whole big thing with Peter never wanting to grow up but Wendy's there playing wife for him and kissing him and it's all kind of…"</p>
<p>"Hot?" he asks. </p>
<p>Amy Santiago and something like growing up. [Spoilers up to 2x9]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Onward Til Morning

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for all episodes up to 2x9. Amy x Jake, of course. Un-beta'd, unfortunately.

Onward Til Morning

...

by dearheadlights

...

On her first day at the 99 she figures it out.

It takes one remark, his fingers hooked in his belt loops, a cocky eyebrow raised when she offers her hand in introduction. "Aaand I think we found our resident stickler," he grins out.

Amy blinks, and for a second she's unsure how to respond. The comment isn't cutting, really, but something about Jake Peralta's face—the way his eyes glint so… _amused_  at his own insight, and so confident of it…lets her know exactly what kind of guy she's dealing with.

"In the flesh," she says and smiles, figuring she can handle this better now, after a few decades of being ridiculed by the cool kids.

Her reaction must not surprise him though, because he grins wider. "Don't worry. We'll corrupt you yet."

*

It's a sign for how her employment there proceeds. The first month is kind of rough, and she can't seem to find anyone to connect with or who seems to have her priorities. Not that that's surprising, really.

And it's not that she's excluded, exactly, but she's just a little too…

"Pure," Jake says, looking at Boyle. He gives her a once over and Amy tries to be unaffected as she meets his gaze, "Santiago's our resident Mary. We should use her as our straight woman. No one would suspect her."

"What are you talking about?" Amy says, hiding her annoyance at his insinuation, "And for the record, I'm not a Mary."

Peralta leans over the desk, smile infuriating, "It's not an insult. You're like…"

"An annoying lamb," Gina interjects, not looking up from her emery board.

Rosa, walking by the desk, pauses, "More like a cartoon rodent. The one with the glasses and high pitched singing."

"A chipmunk?" Jake gives her an incredulous look, "Like Alvin and the Chipmunks?"

Rosa narrows her eyes, "That's what I said."

He turns back to her and Amy finds it hard not to shoot murderous looks at all of them. "There you have it."

"This is stupid," she says and straightens in her chair, "I'm no 'purer' than the rest of you."

"The finger quotes are a nice touch. Totally casual," Peralta says and Amy immediately drops her hands, "But you totally are, princess. Which is why you should help us get out of working late tonight."

Amy puts on her best sneer, "In what world does insulting me get me to help you?"

Boyle answers for Jake. "It's just that everyone has the thing they're good at," Boyle points to himself, "I, for example, excel at thinking on my feet."

"He means falling…he means falling," Jake says, "And Rosa's an excellent intimidator."

"Don't talk about me."

"You see?" Jake gets up and walks to Gina, "And Gina's really great at isolating a person's weakness."

"He's right," the girl agrees, then lowers her voice, "He needs me to say that so he can feel important—"

"And I'm the brains of the operation," Jake continues loudly and Amy holds back her snort. Peralta takes on a much more serious face when he leans back to her, "So we all have our parts to play, little Santiago."

"And what's mine, exactly?" She means it to come out mocking, but the words feel a little heavy on her tongue.

"You're the best of us all, Santiago," he says seriously, "You're like our scolding mother."

He doesn't even see her throw the folder at his head.

*

When she was little, Amy had really liked  _Peter Pan._  The adventurous hero who led his wild band to fight pirates and explore dangerous islands was very appealing to a girl raised with so many brothers.

Amy liked to pretend she was one of the lost boys and tried to join when they'd played out the sword fights.

"Amy, you can't be a lost boy," Tommy, the closest to her in age, had chided.

"And why not?" She held her sword defiantly.

"Because," Andy had interjected. "You're…a girl. And girls aren't lost."

Amy had felt her heart drop, "But Wendy joined the lost boys. And Tink was one, too."

Tommy had looked at her pityingly, "Tink's a fairy. And Wendy was their mother. She told stories and fixed their scratches."

Amy's eyes had filled with tears, "But she fought!"

Andy had shrugged, "Girls can fight. It doesn't mean they're Lost Boys. They become grownups." And he and Tommy had gone back into the fray.

She refused to cry in front of them. It was a stupid game anyway, and she didn't need them to play fight. She could still be a Lost Boy if she wanted.

But that night she put away her copy of Peter's adventures and started reading Nancy Drew.

*

She tires to bond with Rosa one day because they're both women on the force and that has to count for something, right? She tires talking about how weird the team is: Gina's craziness, and Terry's emotional tirades, and Boyle's awkward conversations about French cheese.

"And Peralta," she says, "A huge man-child if I ever saw one."

Rosa stares hard at her, "I like them. They're cool."

"Oh," Amy says, nodding quickly and taking a sip of her coffee to cover up her embarrassment, "Yes. Totally. They're all really cool." She's glad she doesn't have to see her face right now because it's sure to look even dumber than it feels.

"I just meant," she tires to correct, "That everyone seems to like having fun here. A lot. Too much, maybe." She wishes she could stop nodding in such a deranged way and tries to take another casual sip of her coffee.

"You don't like fun?" Rosa regards her blankly.

"Oh, I like fun!"  _Why is it so hard having a conversation with this woman?_  "I mean," she says, "At the appropriate time and place."

"Name of your sex-tape," Jake yells out as he walks by them. Amy shoots a glare at his retreating figure.

"Don't take it too seriously," Rosa says and Amy finds a particularly odd remark from someone like Rosa Diaz. She must have looked puzzled because the tall officer elaborates, "Jake. Don't take Jake too seriously. We all like you here."

Amy smiles, the awkwardness forgotten, "Thanks, it's growing on me…"

"Name of your—"

"Shut up or I will break your arm," she snaps and Jake gives her a wink before going back to his work.

"Huh," Rosa says and Amy is surprised to see the woman looking amused.

"What?"

Rosa just gives her a parting nod, "Come out for drinks tonight. It'll be fun."

She bites her lip, unsure of how to respond. She hasn't been out with them yet. Usually it hadn't felt like they really cared. "Okay," she says as Rosa walks away, "I'll totally do that."

When she gets back to her desk, Jake is staring at her. "Yes?" she asks, eyebrow raised.

"What did you do to Rosa?"

Amy furrows her brow, "Whaddaya mean?"

Jake points a pencil at the woman in question, "She's never that warm."

"Warm?"

Jake narrows his eyes, "Did you hit on her? Blackmail her? Ooooh!" He leans in closer, "Does her father owe your father money?"

"What?" Amy snorts, "No. She just gave me some advice. About work," she adds for good measure.

Peralta has a grin on his face, "Well I gotta say; you're butterin everyone up pretty good."

She smiles, "Oh yeah? My charms taking effect?" She feels lighter, maybe flirty even.

"Wouldn't know," Jake says, "Haven't seen you naked. Say, on that note, are you coming out with us tonight?"

Amy rolls her eyes but nods, "I think so. I could use a beer."

"Beer?" Jake holds a hand to his chest dramatically, "don't tell me the lady drinks…BEER?"

She smirks, "And what else would I drink?"

He shrugs, "I don't know. Cosmos. Daqueries. The fun out of the air."

"Ha ha," she says, "For your information, I could out-drink you any day." She regrets the words as soon as she says them, because the gleam in Jake's eyes is far too sharp for her liking.

"Oh, I guess we're got ourselves a challenge."

"I guess so."

"Good."

"Good," she agrees.

She knows it's stupid, but she won't back down from this. In a way, it feels like more than a personal challenge with Peralta. It feels like a way to prove her stuff to the team. And really, she does very respectably that night, beating both Jake and Gina before passing out at the bar and throwing up in a cab on her way home.

It's her best night with the precinct yet.

*

It's a fragile balance though and while sometimes she still has that feeling, that "Why can't you be less neurotic, Amy?" feeling, she  _gets_  it. She does.

She gets her place in the group, the gentle mocking from the others, the more biting mocking from Peralata, but their respect as well. After all, it's Amy Santiago that's constantly a hair away from beating Peralta at arrest records, it's Amy Santiago that everyone comes to if they want something done right, done thoroughly, done by the book.

And so yeah, she gets the dynamic and she's happy with it. But it's a fragile balance because Jake Peralta comes up to her one day and tells her he'd wished something would have happened with them romantically, and she can only feel frozen and afraid, and then Jake Peralta  _leaves_  to go undercover, and Amy is suspended and without solid ground because she's where she is,  _here_ , because of him.

Because of him.

Because he teases and mocks, because she pushes back, because he made sure, in his own Peralta way, that she was something to the team and when he leaves she doesn't quite know what to do. She feels like she's walking around without a tether and it doesn't even occur to her to think about  _romantic_  things and what she feels for him (does she feel for him?) because the whole 'who she  _is_ thing' is wrapped up in their dynamic. And then, suddenly, it's  _not_  and she falters.

For the first time in years, she feels lost. And it has nothing to do with liking him back, she's certain.

It's only when he returns a few months later that she sees it, because her heart does a drop and re-stabilizes out of that suspension she's been in and even though she tells him "I'm with someone. Nothing's gonna happen," she knows better.

Because the way he comes back, the way he moves back into that space he'd created in the parking lot when he confessed and left isn't the same as it was before.

It's so much wider, the space, and different, and for the life of her, Amy doesn't know how to fix it.

But she wants to.

*

She's thankful for Sophia because Sophia is really like the kind of girl Amy thought would be good for Peralta. Sophia was tough and smart and supportive and Amy is glad of that because Teddy? Teddy was not what she thought he would be and she sees now how much it sucks not to click with someone. And she can tell that Sophia and Jake do click, and she's happy for that.

She tries not to think about her jealousy, that muted sort of ache when she sees them together. Instead, Amy thinks of how to get her old dynamic with Jake back. She plays her part and he retaliates, jokes and delivers—but it's not like before.

A few days after her breakup with Teddy she's getting some of his things together in a box when she a movie comes on the tv— _Peter Pan._  Amy sits down in the middle of the floor like when she was a kid and watches it with rapt attention, the sun moving slowly across the carpet.

When it's over and the credits roll, the sun has almost set and it's dark in her apartment and she reaches for her purse and pulls out her phone. She's calling him before she's even thought about it.

"Hello?"

"Did you ever realize that  _Peter Pan_  was extremely  _adult themed_? Like sexual. For a children's story, I mean."

…

"Mom?"

"Har har," she says, but actually manages a smile. She hears him breathing on the other end and then shuffling. When his voice comes back he sounds a little louder.

"So why are you telling me about sex in  _Peter Pan?_ "

"There is no sex in  _Peter Pan_ ," she rolls her eyes. "But it's clearly about it."

"Those stuffy English writers, I tell ya," and he sounds amused. "Repressed much?"

"It's true," Amy says, "It's this whole big thing with Peter never wanting to grow up but Wendy's there playing wife for him and kissing him and it's all kind of…"

"Hot?"

"Sad." She stares at her lap for a while, suddenly conscious that she's talking to Jake about this and wondering where her self control is. She closes her eyes and the silence on the other end wraps around her.

"I always thought it was a pretty sad story."

"Yeah?" She brings her phone closer.

"Yeah. There are no happy endings for anyone in Neverland. All the kids grow up, Wendy gets old, I bet even the dog dies. It's a like  _Old Yeller_."

Amy gives a small smile, "What about Pan? Isn't he like your patron saint or something?"

"No, see, he's got it worst of all—never growing up just like those kids from Menudo or the Disney Chanel. Having to be a kid waaay past the expiration date. And no video games."

She laughs, "I guess so. I don't know why I was so obsessed with it when I was a kid."

"Oh come on," Jake scoffs, "The only girl in a band of brothers? Like it's not obvious. I bet you played pirates and lead the charge on Hook. You know, in an organized and exceedingly anal fashion. The Santiago way."

Amy feels her heart clench and throat dry up and doesn't know really know why there are tears and this lump in her throat. She can't seem to find her voice. It suddenly hits her how much she's missed him. How  _different_  they've been. She feels overwhelmed and opens her mouth without really thinking about what she'll say but he interrupts her.

"Amy? Is everything—?"

She coughs, tries again. "I should go. Sorry for the impromptu call—"

"Wait, did I—"

"No, no. Everything's fine. I'll see you at work, Peralta. Thanks."

Without giving him a chance to continue, she hangs up. Her heart is beating erratically and her stomach is in knots, a cold ball of fear in her chest.

Somehow, without even realizing it, she'd been about to say she loved him.

*

Work has always been important, but now she doesn't focus on anything else. She's delivering record closings on her case files and Holt had even given her the very rare (and flutter inducing) compliment which had plastered a grin on her face that made both Rosa and Gina give her disgusted looks until she dropped it.

So she tried to calm it and keep her nose down—avoid having too many conversations with—

"Santiago, case for us."

Jake stands by her desk and she takes a beat, looks over to Boyle.

"I have a lot of work. You sure you can't take Boy—"

"Everyone's really swamped right now with the Swison case, I thought you could take a breather anyway." He smiles, though he looks oddly serious. Amy can't think of any other excuses so she shrugs and relents. "Alright."

The car ride is suspiciously quiet and when she opens her mouth to ask him what call they're answering Jake starts talking.

"So, are you going to tell me what's bothering you or am I gonna have to start singing 99 bottles?"

Amy blanches, ignoring her speedy heart-rate, "Nothing's wrong."

There's a pause before Jake starts belting. "99 BOTTLES OF BEER ON THE WALL, 99 BOTTLES OF BEER. YOU TAKE ONE DOWN, PASS IT—"

"It's the Teddy thing!" she yells and Jake stops. "Just breakup stuff." She hopes he buys it because…well, she doesn't really know what else to say.

"Well," he says, and his voice is earnest, "If you ever want to talk about it, I'm here and all the gooey stuff."

"Yep. I will definitely do that."

Jake gives her a look and suddenly pulls the car over.

"What are you doing?" she says and she can't help the slight note of panic. She  _knew_ she hadn't played that last bit very believably.

"That was sarcasm."

"What?" she tries for indignant. "No it wasn't! I just don't need to talk about it."

"But you'd talk to me if you did?"

"Yep," she nods.

Peralta smiles, "Bullshit."

"What?" She's starting to get angry because what, exactly, does he want from her?

"Don't lie, Amy, you haven't been real with me for  _weeks._ " He sounds almost hurt, but Amy pushes the thought out of her head because if she isn't careful this could end up really really—

"Oh what the hell ever," she snaps and curses herself engaging, "There's nothing—"

"So why has it been so awkward between us?" he challenges, "It's Gina crazy how much you've been aloof."

" _Aloof_?" Huh, that might have been a bit too much like a shriek. "It's not my fault things are different between us!"

"But it's mine?"

"YES!"

"HOW?"

"BECAUSE YOU TOLD ME YOU LIKED ME AND THEN YOU LEFT!"

Jake pauses. "But that was months ago. You said you were fine."

"WELL I'M NOT." God this sucked. Royally, royally sucked. She wasn't even sure she could stop the crappy feelings if she tried, so she stared straight ahead and pressed her lips together and then her eyes.

There was a long silence before Jake said quietly, "I thought we said this was in the past."

"We did. We did say that," she agrees. The anger is drained out of her. "I'm sorry."

They don't say anything for a long while, and that's strange too. Everything is strange. Finally, Jake asks, "You like me then? Present tense?"

Amy looks down and clears her throat, "Yeah." She gathers her courage, "Do you? Still?"

When he looks at her, his face is oddly pained, "Amy, it doesn't matter."

"Sophia," she says faintly, but it's not even a question. He doesn't respond but she straightens in her seat before giving him a small smile, "Honestly? I really get it. Don't feel bad. I'm just glad you know now. Awkward feelz avoided." She keeps her voice normal and wills her heart to stop the drop act.

He nods and doesn't respond to that and she has to bite her lip. "I guess you're really growing up, Peralta."

Jake gives her a wry smile, putting the car back into gear, "Well, couldn't stay a creepy man-child forever."

Despite the tense air, Amy laughs. "No, you could have," she says and she thinks about her first day at the precinct, when she thought she'd had him all figured out.

"But I'm glad you didn't."

*

It does get better because time, thankfully, numbs most of the really bad stuff. And on good days, she can even feel like she hadn't made an ass of herself, but that she'd been pretty brave (or, at least, minimally neurotic) in her admittance.

Rosa invites her out for drinks one night a few weeks later because she says that Amy looks "like shit" and Amy doesn't even argue. The place is pretty empty and quiet as they sit at the bar. After their second beer Rosa says, "So you told him?"

Amy doesn't bother looking surprised, just nods and sips on her drink, "Yep. It's all squared away."

Rosa gives her a hard look, "That's bullshit."

Amy sighs, "I mean it." Her words sound slightly slurred and she frowns, "It's all out there. In the yonder. All out there in space."

Rosa scoffs, "I'm no expert on this feelings crap, and it's not like I like saying this." She looks Amy straight in the face, "Saying it's so doesn't change shit. It's not gonna just go away."

Amy returns her look, "Well fine then. But I'm not the one blocking or preventing this or whatever." She gestures in front of herself and leans on the bar, "And I don't think it's fair to wait around and see if he changes his mind."

"Fair to who?" Diaz says.

Amy blinks and brings a hesitant finger to her chest, "Me?"

"Uh-huh," Rosa says, taking a swig, "You remember that. You're the only one that can stop yourself from feeling like shit."

Neither one of them says anything for a while until Amy breaks the silence. "You know I've always wanted a big sister?"

Rosa gives her a sharp look, but Amy can see the corner of her mouth twitch up, "Shut up and drink your beer."

Amy does as she's told.

*

That night she lays in bed with her window open for the first time since childhood, before her paranoias and fears had always made her cautious about leaving doors unlocked. Tonight, the few stars in the sky are just bright enough to see from her pillow.

The night is like velvet, drawing her in and sleep is almost there when she hears the soft taps—knocking on her door. She doesn't turn on any lights but she walks to her front door and stands on her toes to look out the peep hole to the hallway outside.

The figure is barely illuminated, but her hand is on the lock before she's thought about it, her heart in her throat.

Amy opens the door and a dozen things crash through her at once. Her worry and fear and anger and something she can't place. But it's ultimately relief that wins out over the rest.

She cocks her head and smiles, "It's about time, Peralta."

 

 


End file.
